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ivor20

G'day, and welcome to my blog site. My name is Ivor Steven, I live in Geelong, Australia. I'm an ex-industrial chemist, and a retired plumber, and a former Carer of my wife(Carole), for 30 years, who suffered from severe MS. I Write poetry about those personal thoughts, throughout and beyond my life as a Carer.
I've been blogging for over 2 years, and writing poems for 19 years. Of course a lot of my poems are about my favourite subject Carole, but since I've been blogging my writings have become quite varied, humourous, mystical, observational, and even a few monster/horror poems.
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It’s like magic. In a short while the mind calms down and reorganizes. It probably because in the process of writing, feelings and emotions become clearer and hidden thoughts and feelings come to the surface to bring a more complete light to the situation.

I know every time I cry, she’s smiling at me, and I certainly feel that. And I’m so pleased you think my words are of benefit to other people. When I first started writing many years ago, my poems were shared amongst our MS group. I’m rapt that I’m again able to help others, to let them know they are not alone, and there is help out there for them. xxx

Keep on writing so wonderfully, releasing your thoughts and feelings. Your poem is heart-felt, beautifully poignant, cathartic. Love the depth of the content, the imagery, the flow and the lovely rhymes. Also, I like the songs and lyrics you usually attach to your posts. Great work, Ivor!

Christ, this made me cry. Not a lot does that when it comes to words but damn this got me. Wonderfully written, Ivor. Glad I read over the comments and saw you saying you’re well and were off out with Cyndy! 🙂

I hope your future becomes brighter Jane. I wonder why we are dealt the cards, and not given the chance to exchange them, The dark side of the moon is always there, the sun always rises, and cloudy days out-shadow the ones with silver linings !!! I just made all that shit up…… I’d like to say keep smiling, but it’s had to smile, while while the hailstones are still hitting you on the head and you keep getting kicked in the guts, your intestinal fortitude can only take so much…………mines got a puncture and I don’t know how to fix the blow-out……. .. Let it bleed out through the crack, until the light gets, then ring the bells that still can ring……xxxx

You had genuine love – you held it in your hand. The love itself didn’t die. It’s not enough, but it’s a rare gem in this fickle world. Hold on to it, dear Ivor, and before you go to sleep each night, let your thoughts fly. Relive the beauty. Maybe your dreams will follow the theme.

When I look back at my life, there are many things which seemed felt like punishments but later turned out to be gifts, but there’s one thing in particular. It might sound odd, but I am proud to be the mother of a woman who recovered so miraculously from addiction. Every ounce of suffering is reduced to nothing by the thought of her smiling face, or the sound of her voice. It was an honour to raise her through so many and so varied difficulties and to finally see my rare flower bloom xxx